


Rumours Through the Grapevine

by DarkHell616



Series: RSVP [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Best Friends, Coffee, Conversations, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Halloween, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Pumpkins, Rumours, Seasonal, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHell616/pseuds/DarkHell616
Summary: It had been a couple of months since the wedding and I hadn't seen hair nor hide of Spencer Reid, not that I had expected to.Though when opportunity comes knocking, or more directly pushed upon me with an added bit of news to catch my morbid curiosity, I decide to take it.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: RSVP [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980949
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

As I expected, I didn’t hear from Spencer after the reception.

It was disappointing but life went on, we were both busy adults who barely knew one another, one night in an atmosphere made to feel romantic didn’t mean a lifelong friendship or more would ensue.

Not that that stopped the old bestie from getting personally offended upon her return from her honeymoon.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen him?” She gasped.

“Exactly what I said, he took me home, I got out of the car and then we went our separate ways.”

“Not even a peck on the cheek?”

I laughed and shook my head before moving onto another subject.

A couple of weeks turned into two months and she repeatedly brought the subject back to Spencer and the happenings in his life that she learned about.

How he had helped to solve the case.

How he had been hurt during a case, though it was only minor bruising.

How he’d tried a new coffee place.

“I think he’s talking to someone,” she said one day, jarring me from my thoughts.

“Oh really?” I asked, trying to ignore to slight pang that jolted my heart, “what’s their name? Is it getting serious?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “she isn’t you so what do I care?”

“Kind of biased,” I laughed.

“I’m allowed to be.”

“Well you only think he’s talking to someone, so what does it matter? It doesn’t matter anyway because we haven’t talked since your wedding.”

“Which surprises me, you had a connection.”

I rolled my eyes a little but still smiled at her.

“I’m sure it was just the environment and besides, we didn’t exchange numbers or anything, relax.”

“Come on, just talk to him, I can get you his number.”

“No! You just said he’s talking to someone, I don’t want to suddenly spring up and jinx it if he is.”

“Well no but they may not even be a proper thing, love doesn’t happen over a wet weekend.”

“It did in Thor.”

“But we’re not in Thor, are we?”

I gave her the hardest look I could and shook my head.

“The answer is no, just leave him be, your ship is not sailing.”

Though the thought still lingered in the back of my head long after the conversation.

A repetitive cycle of ‘what if’ scenarios that always lead to me not lying along in my bed.

Typically I wouldn’t mind but now that she’d implanted the thought of Spencer sharing his with someone else, I felt lonelier than I ever had.

Singlehood was fine and dandy, I was perfectly happy, so why did I get a pang of jealousy and hurt thinking about a man I truly barely knew with another?

It was a strange limbo.

I wanted to know everything about the development of the relationship while simultaneously not wanting to know anything at all.

“I hate it,” I grumbled around my panini, “what do I do?”

“You could take the offer,” Arch suggested, biting into his own food.

This was a month and a half after being told the news.

Having to get out of my own thoughts, I met up with my ditch-a-date best friend, Arch, to have dinner and talk about them with a non-biased person instead.

“But wouldn’t it be weird accepting it so late? And being that random person on the phone who you met once?”

“You really have no idea how people start dating, do you?”

“I do, in movies and the like.”

He rolled his eyes, looking at me as though I were hopeless.

“Just take her up on the offer, it sounds like you had a great time and you’re overthinking things.”

“But what if he is developing with someone else?”

“So what? You can still be friends.”

I mulled over this for a further week and a half, eventually giving up on holding myself back and shooting off a text to ask her to give me his number, or at least ask Morgan to ask Spencer if it was okay for me to have his number.

A little surprisingly, on my end at least, he said yes and through the pipeline of our friends I finally got a number to save into my phone.

One that still took me a week to build up the courage to text.

It was a little later than I’d typically like to text someone, if I had to text anyone at all.

I was curled up on my couch, a movie playing away as I snuggled in my blanket and let my mind drift off.

My phone pinged with a notification.

Picking it up, I saw that my ‘waste time’ game had refilled on lives and was ready to play again.

My fingers flew across the screen to unlock the device and instantly my eyes fell to the contact logo, an irregular thump coming from my heart as I thought of Spencer.

After hovering my thumb over the button for a couple of really long seconds, I let out a sigh and loaded up the messaging app with a resounded; “Screw this.”

I hastily typed out a message, nothing fancy or long winded, just a quick; ‘Hi, this is the weirdo you met at the wedding, hope we can chat soon,’ and sent it before I could mull over it too much.

Though I instantly regretted sending it, as was typical for sending any kind of message to a new constant, whether over the phone or online.

I had a habit of thinking about it too much, worrying that I was bothering the person or that they’d look at my message and roll their eyes but act cordial with me, sometimes it’d get to the point where my hands would get shaky and a strange shuddering came over me.

Like then.

Waiting for a reply was the worst five minutes of my life to immediate memory, I thanked the God I didn’t believe in that he didn’t leave me hanging any longer.

It wasn’t anything special, or at least didn’t read as anything special, just a returned hello and an acknowledgement that he did remember me.

His way of typing came across as very blunt and cold, though I did recall being told that he wasn’t great with technology, so I simply put it down to that. 

Reading text is such a varying subject when it comes to tone and, from what I knew, I doubted that Spencer was a grumpy texter when he had to do it.

With a long sigh and a relieved smile, I then chewed on my lip as I thought about what the best course of action was.

What could I talk about?

Did I say sorry again?

Ask about updates on his life? Ask about cases?

Maybe ask about the rumour?

Shaking my head, I let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“No,” I said to myself, looking back at the screen, “too soon.”

After another minute of contemplation, I took the dive with another long breath to calm my nerves.

I’d dread the time waiting for the answer, but I’d done it and I should have felt proud about making a move first.

It wasn’t anything big, it would just be coffee.

Catch up coffee between potential friends, that’s all it would be if he said yes.


	2. Chapter 2

My leg bounced more as my anxiousness grew, a sickening feeling started to grow in my stomach as time passed minute by slow minute.

I kept glancing down at my phone, waiting for a message or a call to delay the plan or cancel it altogether.

I was torn on whether I wanted that to happen or not.

On one hand, I really wanted to see him again, on the other, however, I wanted any reason to come up that could stop my nerves from eating me from inside out.

There was only so much cream that could be stirred into my now lukewarm hot chocolate and that had blended in long ago, the drink sitting there to be forgotten after a couple of sips as my stomach turned uncomfortably.

People wandered past the window, going about their lives as I stewed in my growing anxiousness.

Just five more minutes, that’s all he’d have.

Five minutes and then I’d-

“Judging by the way you’re bouncing your leg, I’d say that you’re pretty nervous and I wouldn’t recommend drinking coffee until you’ve settled down.”

Turning to my left, I slowly tilted my head up to meet Spencer’s smile as he loomed over me, like Dahl’s BFG with a purple scarf and a satchel.

“Both elevates cortisol levels and can lead to negative, long term and sometimes permanent health issues if they’re too high for extended periods of time,” he continued, pulling out the chair opposite me to sit down.

“Oh really?” I smiled, tapping my nail to my cup to make the ceramic ting, “lucky that it’s hot chocolate then, hm?”

“Very, it’s said that chocolate has the opposite effect to what caffeine would have, so you’re balancing yourself out perfectly.”

“What can I say? I’m a master of coincidences.”

He smiled as I laughed, resting his hands on top of the table with his fingers linked as he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read beyond ‘pleased to see you’.

“You’re looking good,” I said as a means to break the sudden silence that felt chokingly thick to me and only me, so it seemed.

Not that that made it any less true.

His hair was a little longer and wilder than the last time I saw him, though he didn’t look like he’d slept since that night either, not that that was anything new either.

“Thank you,” he smiled wider, giving a small nod, “for inviting me,” he added quickly onto the end.

Rolling my eyes a little, I couldn’t help but snicker just a bit.

“Still can’t accept compliments, hm?”

“It’s quite common for people to be unable to accept a compliment, especially someone with low self-esteem, they typically can’t believe why anyone would think that way and will find any reason to disbelieve it, often choosing to think that the one complimenting them is being patronising which results in reactions of embarrassment rather than flattery.”

“Thank you for confirming my suspicions, doctor.”

I smiled at him while picking up my cup and bringing it to my lips, hoping that I was hiding my still jittery nerves better than I felt I was.

Being in front of a profiler in a casual setting was surprisingly nerve-wracking, like when an office would pull up behind your perfectly innocent car.

“Sorry, I’m being rude,” I said as my cup tapped against the table once again, “I invited you and didn’t even offer you something, would you like a drink?”

“It’s okay, I can get my own.”

He doesn’t wait for me to react, he simply pushes his chair back and gets up, dashing off to the counter.

If I were to hazard a guess, and it would probably be a very very wrong guess, I would say that he was also feeling a little anxious about this catch up.

Once I was certain he would out of eyeshot, I dropped my head back and let out a quiet groan.

Why did I have to make things so awkward?

We were just two potential friends meeting up for coffee and a chat and here I was, awkwarding it up like a damn fool in front of a cute man my best friend wanted me to hook up with.

“What even is life anyway?” I grumbled, slouching forward again, resting my chin in my palm.

Terrible radio music did nothing to lift my worries, the nasally voice droning on about some weary lost love was only driving home my hopelessness in the situation and I hated that kind of music at the best of times.

Time seemed to stretch on for eternity before Spencer emerged again, returning to his place opposite me with a steaming cup of coffee which he proceeded to fill with sugar once he was settled in.

The amount he put in made my teeth tingle, though I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t been guilty of that myself at times, a habit I had worked to control for the sake of my blood pressure.

“So,” I finally drawl out, lifting my cup delicately in both hands, “how are you? Life treating you well? Any updates?”

I look at him over my cup with raised eyebrows of curiosity and hinting while taking a slow sip, hoping that the intention behind my question was obvious but not too obvious.

He looks up from his sugar avalanche and merely gives a little shrug.

“I’m not sure there is much to tell you honestly, it’s the same old, work is stressful but rewarding, I’ve been reading, the therapy sessions have been helping”

“Good,” I smiled, “I’m really glad it’s helping you.”

“Thank you, it’s going well for only three sessions,” he nodded, stirring the coffee into his sugar.

“No statistics to blurt out about that?” I asked, tilting my head a little with an expression of amusement.

“Yes, but I’m trying to hold it back, just about this particular subject.”

With a slow nod, I give an agreeing hum and finish off the last of my drink.

“That’s fair.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? Honestly, I’m as boring as I’ve ever been, just worked, slept, eaten and worked again.”

“That sounds thrilling.”

“As thrilling as ever,” I laughed softly, “though I’ve been thinking of getting a pet, someone to cuddle with as the winter settles in, to snuggle with as I watch things or read, especially as it’s so quiet now the bestie is off being married.”

Spencer gave me a soft smile and looked down at his cup, his fingers tapping against it as he admired the contents that steamed inside.

“A pet for companionship is a good idea, not only do they help with loneliness, anxiety, stress and depression but it releases a hormone that increases relaxation and lowers stress levels, it’s also mutually beneficial for the animal, given the right one.” 

“All the more reason to get one,” I hummed, noticing the way he seemed to be avoiding my eye, “would you consider getting a pet?”

“Animals, especially dogs, don’t seem to like me,” he chuckled wryly.

“I see, so an SO is the better option for you, hm?”

Spencer finally lifted his head to look at me again with the most adorable frown, though I couldn’t tell if it was confusion, sadness or just a thoughtful one.

“I’m happy by myself.”

“I wasn’t saying you weren’t, I’m also quite happy in singledom, though sometimes the thought of romantic company is nice.”

“It is, are there people lining up at your door for a date?”

I scoffed a laugh and looked away, shaking my head.

“I have people who think that offering me ramen after talking to me for five minutes for the first time since college will get them into my bed,” I rolled my eyes and looked to Spencer, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “What about you?” I added on quickly, “I heard you were talking to someone recently.”

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I instantly wanted to take them back, but it seemed as though this was where my mind wanted to go and it was tired of waiting for me to breach the subject.

“Oh, yes, you heard about that?”

“Kind of hard not to when your best friend is married to the best friend of the guy they’re trying to set you up with.”

He laughed and smiled down at his cup.

“You have a point, they weren’t very subtle that night…or any time after, actually”

“Not as slick as you’d think an FBI agent would be and she’s just terrible at keeping things from me.”

“I don’t know why she bothered telling you,” he shrugged a little, “we spoke for a few weeks, went for one coffee and haven’t talked since.”

“I see…now I feel bad for bringing it up.”

“No, don’t, it was a genuine question, don’t feel bad, I’m not broken up about it seeing as I barely knew her in the grand scheme of things.”

“That doesn’t make it less disappointing if you had hope for something.”

“It’s not too bad, I’m used to it.”

If Spencer had heard my heart shatter over the music, I wouldn’t have been any less surprised.

My entire being deflated at the saddened smile that didn’t give off the impression he most likely wanted it to, instead all I could see was a broken man trying to smile through the pain and only minorly succeeding.

A silence fell over us both, neither of us seeming to know what to say.

The fact that this lovely man was filled with so much sorrow hurt to know, the fact that there was no magic or finger snap that could make it all go away was tormenting.

With a weighted sigh, I looked out the window and chewed on my lip.

From my peripheral vision, I saw Spencer raise his cup, the silence still lingering.

A browning leaf fell past the window and the branches of the tree outside started to blow wildly as autumn continued to rage on.

Suddenly, I sat up straighter in my seat and slammed my hand onto the table, harder than I intended, when an idea came to mind.

“What is it?”

I looked to Spencer and smiled, clasping my hands together.

Granted, it was only a temporary distraction from everything, but it was better than nothing.

“So, a little birdie told me that you like Halloween.”

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“And I happen to like Halloween, so why don’t we ditch the boring coffee catch-up, because I’m really not that interesting, and go do something Halloweeny?”

A genuine smile replaced that previous saddened one.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “we could frolic in some fields, dance with a scarecrow, I think you’d look fetching in the cliché white dress.”

“Aww, you think so?”

“I truly, truly do,” I grinned at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Our ‘Halloweeny’ activity, it turned out, was carving the pumpkins I forgot that I needed for a display at work, due to go in the day after.

Luckily, Spencer was pretty chilled about my sudden realisation as we wandered around town and wasted time together, he even laughed at my forgetfulness, spouted off some fact about it and agreed to help me.

Little did I know that he’d critique my skills.

“You’re so bad at this.”

I lifted up my head with a gasp, scoop mid-way through scraping at the inside of my pumpkin.

“Excuse me?”

Spencer looked up from his own pumpkin with a boyish grin, still laughing at me.

“I said you’re bad at this.”

With a huff, I looked down at the wonky face I had carved and pouted.

“I’m not bad, just a little cack-handed but that’s only because my damn carving saw snapped,” I shrugged before turning my attention back to him, “besides, you’re one to talk, Mr. I’ll-Paint-the-Face-On.”

He looked down at the pumpkin resting in front of his crossed legs, paintbrush hovering over it with a large drop threatening to plop onto the newspaper.

“It’s easier to correct mistakes this way.”

“It’s cheating.”

“It’s a perfectly sensible way to keep the pumpkin preserved if it’s going into a store window for a week, rather than carving it and putting it under the heavy lights your store has.”

I stared at him and huffed.

“Screw you, Spencer Reid.”

“It’s Dr. Spencer Reid, thank you.”

He was only greeted by a middle finger and a scorned look, which resulted in him laughing and going back to his pumpkin painting.

As he continues painting on the details of whatever face he was hiding from me, I couldn’t help but find my attention lingering on him.

For once he seemed almost happy and carefree, less haunted than I’d noticed before.

It wouldn’t last, it didn’t take a genius to see that, but in that moment it was wonderful.

Hunching uncomfortably over my pumpkin, I continue to try and save its face while ignoring the growing pain in my fingertips at using a broken saw.

I squeaked yelp from Spencer made me jump, causing me to misdirect a cut in my pumpkin and ruin his eye more than it already was as my head snapped towards him to see what was wrong.

The answer was nothing.

At least nothing beyond the splodge of paint that he’d managed to get over his shirt.

“Really?” I laughed, shaking my head, “you messy pup.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he protested, his voice going higher than usual.

His helpless puppy expression only made me laugh harder and nearly slip as I pushed myself up off of the floor.

“Give me your shirt, I can wash it.”

“Right here?”

“Yes, before it has a chance to start drying.”

I smiled at him, holding my hand out to indicate for Spencer to pass his shirt over.

“O-Oh, yeah…um,” his tongue flicked over his lips quickly, “do you mind looking away?”

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll grab a shirt for you to borrow.”

Turning away, I briskly walk to my bedroom and hear Spencer shuffling around behind me, making me picture him trying to awkwardly take off his shirt without catching any more paint on himself.

I doubt it was actually that complicated but it was a strangely cute image and it made me smile.

Luckily, I had a variety of both masculine and feminine clothes in varying sizes and Spencer was such a lithe man that it wouldn’t be hard to find something within my own drawers, there were definitely t-shirts that would fit him perfectly well.

Such as the glow-in-the-dark skeleton one I pulled out from the top of the pile.

A personal favourite of mine.

By the time I had returned he had set the dirtied shirt carefully out on the floor, being sure not to drop any paint on my carpet and seemed to have gotten over his moment of shyness, possibly realising that I’d end up seeing him one way or another to give him the clean one.

Either way I was greeted by a shirtless Spencer who looked a little uncomfortable.

“I told you we should have gone costume shopping,” I snickered, “then you’d be changed already.”

He only rolled his eyes at me but still smiled all the same.

“Hey,” I added excitedly, holding the shirt out to him, “seeing as we’re going to be best buds, maybe one year we can do a pairing costume, like Jack and Zero.”

“Zero?” He replied with an amused laugh while taking the offered clothes, “not Sally?”

“Hell no, Zero is my boy,” I grinned at him, pausing for a moment before gasping so loudly I almost choked on my own saliva, “or Oogie Boogie!”

“You’re really excited about that,” he smiled.

“You have no idea.”

“I think I might, first impressions give me the idea that you’re a little obsessed with him.”

“Funny you should say that, my friend says I have Zero on the brain,” I snickered, “even says I’ll end up getting a Zero tattoo eventually.”

“Would you?”

“I doubt it, my pain threshold isn’t terrible but I’d rather not inflict pain upon myself if I can help it, so in short…I’m a chicken.”

I stepped passed him and grabbed his shirt from where he’d laid it out, then hopped back to my kitchen to get the paint seen to before it dried too much.

“What about with horror movies?” He called to me.

“Huh?” I yelled back dumbly.

“Are you chicken with horror movies?” He asked again, this time stepping into the kitchen with his drying pumpkin held out at arm’s length.

It was strange seeing him in a casual t-shirt, as opposed to some form of button up.

A good strange, it suited him in a way I would never have thought to have imagined.

Glancing at the thing in his hands, I nudged my head towards an empty part of the counter where he could set it down and then shrugged.

“Not really, I hate jumpscares but I’m fine with horror otherwise.”

“Then how about we lean into our theme and go for a pure Halloween movie?”

“I’m down for that,” I nodded, “what are you thinking?”

“Ever heard of When Good Ghouls Go Bad?”

I tilted my head a little and frowned in thought before shaking my head.

“I have not.”

“Great,” he said as he quickly moved back out of the room, “then give me about forty minutes, I need to grab some things.”

A little splutter of surprise left me and I had ever intention of asking where he was going, but before my brain kicked fully into gear the door had already clicked shut and Spencer was already gone, leaving me to clean his shirt while his pumpkin stared on.


	4. Chapter 4

“No, you’re wrong.”

“I’m not, you just can’t accept the truth.”

I looked to Spencer with the sternest expression I could muster, mug clasped tightly in my hands as I feel my discontent radiating out of me.

“I won’t accept anything because you’re wrong, simple as that.”

“Tell me how I’m wrong,” he challenged.

“You just are, anyone that says The Devil’s Backbone is better than The Orphanage is wrong.”

“That’s not an answer,” he protested, going up a couple of octaves.

“Is now,” I replied with a tongue poke before sipping my drink.

“Well, there’s one of two ways we can settle this matter.”

“And how would that be?”

“We can either agree to disagree or play a chess game, winner is right.”

I stared at him for a moment, internally squeeing at the smile he was giving me before letting out a gross sounding snort.

“Okay, you win by default, my life could be on the line and I still couldn’t play chess.”

Spencer looked almost aghast at my revelation.

“So, you’re part of the ninety percent?”

“Huh?”

“Although it’s extremely difficult to work out definitively, the going number is around six to seven million people worldwide that play chess and while that sounds like a lot, statistically speaking it would only work out at about ten percent of the population.”

“Wow, that’s a fair bit then.”

“If the numbers are correct, but the likelihood of it being so is small as there’s no way to clarify who is and isn’t playing chess at any given time if they don’t document it.”

He stopped his rambling as our eyes connected, a small frown coming across his face.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

I snickered and shrugged, “I love how you just know things.”

For the first time I can recall since meeting him, Spencer’s brain seemed to shut down as he faltered, gave a tight smile and looked away from me, eyes occasionally darting back as he thought.

“I’m…genuinely speechless.”

“Miracles do happen.”

I stood up from my spot and put my mug down on the coffee table before rounding it, snatching up the DVD case.

“Any idea for what you want to watch next?”

Turning to Spencer as the disc ejected, I gave him a smile as he lifted his eyes to meet mine for longer than a brief second.

“Actually,” he started, quickly licking his lips, “I’d like to sit and just talk for a while.”

“Oh,” my eyebrows rose but I still shrugged and turned back to set the disc in its case, using this moment to turn the TV off while I was stood there, “I’m fine with that.”

Setting the DVD next to the TV, I grabbed the empty bowls we’d been working through over the course of the evening and tell him to wait a moment while I brought in the last remnants of our Halloween snacks, quickly jotting down a note to pick up more before the actual day came around in a week’s time.

Once I returned with our goods, I settled in and looked to Spencer with an affirming nod.

“Okay, so let’s talk.”

And talk we did.

Through varying subjects of ourselves and opinions to utter nonsense, we simply talked a couple of hours away.

As time went by, Spencer seemed to relax and became more open with things, nothing that I would deem ‘too soon’ deep or intimate, but enough for me to notice that this wonderful, cheerful man may have needed more help than he was willing to admit that he needed.

Not that it was my place to tell, I wasn’t a therapist nor Spence himself, but something in the way his haunted eyes were downcast during some softly told stories told me that may have been the case.

I didn’t voice any presumptions, I simply let him talk while interjecting a comment here or there.

It could have been comical, with the way his words contrasted with the glow-in-the-dark skeleton shirt that had made itself further known once the TV had been turned off.

Part of me had wondered if lighting some candles or turning on a lamp would have been wise, but I think we both found a form of confidence in the dark, the only bit of light coming from the hallway.

Watching this man sit in front of me, pouring his soul into whatever he was saying made my heart flutter with both pain and admiration.

How anyone could hurt him was a mystery.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with the person you were talking to,” I said before even thinking about it.

Spencer looked at me in slight bewilderment, pausing for a moment before shrugging lightly and looking down at his lap.

“It’s fine, I’m kind of used to it now,” he nodded slowly, turning to me again, “besides, I don’t think we’d have lasted long if it went further.”

“Don’t say that first bit,” I pouted at him, “it makes me feel really bad.”

“I don’t mean to, it’s just the truth.”

With a frown, I shuffled along the couch to bridge the gap between us, resting my hand on top of his.

“I wish it wasn’t, with all my heart do I wish it wasn’t.”

Spencer Reid was truly something else, not just because of his genius status and what skills that gave him.

I’d never felt connected with someone as quickly as I did with him and it all, even despite the time we spent together at the wedding, felt a little too soon, a realisation that frightened me as this single minute lingered on longer.

Hanging in uncertainty.

Until something snapped between us.

I don’t know if Spencer felt it as strongly as I did, but if his leaning in was any indication then I would have confidently said that he wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss him.

His hand twisted to take hold of mine, squeezing it just before our lips connected.

It was the sincerest kiss I’d ever experienced, not that there were many to pick from in my years, though suffice to say that it was also the only kiss I’d had where I felt just as passionate as my partner.

A kiss from Spencer was unique in a way I couldn’t describe, a way purely for myself to enjoy in this moment until we broke away.

Much to my disappointment.

He leaned back first and I composed myself before meeting his eyes, both of us looking at the other uncertainly, a thick silence lingering as my lips tingled.

“That was something,” I eventually smiled.

“Not a bad something.”

“Not at all,” I shook my head.

“It’s no surprise, around forty percent of couples were friends befo-”

With a huffed laugh, I leaned back in and cupped his face in my hands, smushing his cheeks just a little to silence him.

“Just this once, Spence, I’m going to ask you to please stop and just do it again.”

He looked at me with slightly widened eyes as I let his face go, though he still smiled and nodded, reassuring me that I hadn’t unintentionally hurt his feelings.

We leaned back in and continued where we had left off.

Thankfully, this was also the perfect distraction from me having to tell him that we were technically barely friends just this morning.


End file.
